


and i know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem

by darth_stitch



Series: A New Road Or A Secret Gate:  Bagginshield Week March 2014 Prompts [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Bagginshield Week March 2014, Crack, Dwobbits, Humor, M/M, Mpreg, Well MPREG Hints anyway, Writing Prompt: An Unexpected Alternate Universe, Writing Prompt: Dreams or Past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of Five Armies and its aftermath is now a dream.  Instead of waking up in the halls of his fathers, Thorin Oakenshield finds himself back in Ered Luin, before the Quest of Erebor has even started.  And there's a little Hobbit fauntling with them who insists on calling Thorin his Da....  Written for the March 2014 Bagginshield Week.  Writing Prompt:  Dreams or Past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  


**Dreams or Past - Bagginshield Week Day 4**  
  
 _  
  
The words seemed to stick on his tongue and every breath was like being gutted all over again but Thorin had to speak, had to let Bilbo know.  
  
_ _There was no time left.  And Thorin would have happily given up all the gold in Erebor for just one more minute with his Hobbit, just one more moment…  
  
_ _"There is more in you of good than you know, beloved.  Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure.  So much more than I ever had.  If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."  
  
_ _"There would be no merriment in this world, ever again," Bilbo wept.  "Not with you gone."  
  
_ _Thorin had just enough strength to bring Bilbo’s hand to his lips, a final kiss.  “But sad or merry, I must leave it now.  Farewell….”  
  
_ _And his last memory was of the tears in his Hobbit’s eyes and Bilbo’s voice whispering his Secret Name._  
  
And then, Thorin Oakenshield woke up, in his own bed, in his chambers at Ered Luin. 

He was well and whole and of the wounds he had received in the Battle of Five Armies, there was absolutely no trace.  Not even a scar.  Surely, if he had died and gone to the halls of his fathers, it would _not_ look like this? 

But there were his beads upon his night stand and the book he’d just finished reading on the night before he would set off for Bree, chasing rumors about his missing father.  There was his brush and his boot daggers, his axes and his old sword that he forged with his own hands and his traveling cloak upon its stand. 

But he could remember _everything_ , from his conversation with Gandalf and the wizard’s urging that they retake Erebor from the dragon, the moment he’d knocked upon that ridiculous round green door of Bilbo’s home, singing their lament for their home, the Trolls, the Orcs, the Wargs, the skin-changer, the Elves.

_Bilbo_. 

Bilbo, shy, flustered, exasperated, kind, eternally curious, so very clever and so very brave.  Bilbo, with the way the sun caught the gold and red of his hair and the way he still smelled faintly of lavender and sweetness even after a long day’s walk.  Bilbo who had stood with his ridiculously useful Elven letter-opener, defending him against Azog.  Bilbo who had returned his kisses with equal ardor and teased him by stealing kisses in turn, a warm sweet weight and warmth in his arms, stealing his heart as well as the Arkenstone. 

Surely, Bilbo, after all this, was no mere _dream!_

And then, into his room burst in Fili and Kili and Thorin’s heart clenched painfully in his chest to see his beloved boys alive and _whole._

He would have reached out to hold them both close, to whisper his own apologies, except for one thing. 

Fili was holding a curly-haired little lad in his arms and by the look of the hair on his feet - this was no dwarfling. 

"Uncle," Fili said nervously.  "Kili and I swear to you, no matter _what_ he looks like or _who_ he resembles, we absolutely sired no children out of wedlock!  We would not be so dishonorable!”

"What he said!" Kili echoed.  "I mean, he looks more like Uncle Thorin than we do!" 

"That still doesn’t explain how this little darling ended up in _your_ bed, Fili!  Still waiting for an explanation, lads!”  And in stormed Dis, a dwarrowdam definitely on the warpath, with her own axe at the ready. 

Thorin’s knees gave way and he sat heavily back on his bed. 

The little one crowed and waved his arms at him.  “ _Thowin-Da!”_

Dis paused.  Took in the little boy’s dark curls and blue eyes and then looked at her brother.  An eyebrow raised.  “Something you’re not telling us, brother dear?” 

And once again, the little boy in Fili’s arms squirmed and wriggled, obviously wanting to get to Thorin.  Wordlessly, Thorin reached out for the lad, who went to him with a squeal of delight. 

"Thowin-Da!"

"You seem to know _my_ name,” Thorin said softly, a faint smile on his lips.  He was surprised that he could still sound so steady, despite the fact that his heart was pounding painfully in his chest.  “What is yours?”

The little boy - _fauntling,_ Bilbo’s voice whispered in his mind - stuck a finger into his mouth and then said, quite shyly.  “Fwodo.  Fwodo Baggins.” 

_Baggins._

Sweet Mahal.  It wasn’t a dream. 

_“_ We go to Unca Bilbo now?” Fwodo… no, _Frodo_ asked hopefully.  And then he frowned and said.  “Guess Bilbo’s my Dada too.  I fink.”

It wasn’t a dream.  It wasn’t a dream at all.  But Thorin didn’t pay any attention to the exclamations made by his sister and his nephews and looked at this impossible child, with his dark hair in Bilbo’s curls and Thorin’s own eyes and the sweet mischief in his smile and that oddly _knowing_ look that was a little bit at odds on a face that was still slightly chubby with baby fat. 

And this time,  he’d make it right.  Thorin would make _everything_ right in this second chance, this new life.  Whatever happened in that old life was past.  It would be nothing more than a dream and a future that would _never_ come to be. 

Thorin smiled fully and gave the only possible answer he could give.  “Yes, my lad.  We’ll get you home to your… no _, our_ Bilbo.  I promise.”

_\- tbc -_

 

 

 

 


	2. we must away ere break of day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's turn to wake up in the past. Written as part of the March 2014 Bagginshield Week. Writing Prompt: An Unexpected Alternate Universe.

   
[ ](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/image/80299764339)

**An Unexpected Alternate Universe - Bagginshield Week Day 5**

_**  
**_

To be perfectly honest, Bilbo Baggins had a Plan.  

It was a very _good_ plan, if he could say so himself.  As the great ship made its way to Valinor and as the years of his life began to fade away from Bilbo, leaving him as the younger, if still-middle-aged Hobbit he had been when Gandalf had dragged him into all these shenanigans, Bilbo was even more convinced of the Rightness of his Plan.  Was he not the greatest Burglar in all of Middle-earth?  Did he not manage to burgle the One Ring, riddle with a Dragon and steal thirteen Dwarves out from under the Elven-king’s nose? 

So Bilbo Baggins thought that he was _perfectly_ justified in running off to the Halls of Aule, with every intention of stealing himself one grumpy, ridiculously beautiful King Under the Mountain. 

Certainly he wasn’t _Luthien_ _Tinuviel_ and the love he and his Dwarf King bore for each under went unrecorded in the tales, for it had been a story that he could not ever bear to share with anyone.  Grand tales of star-crossed love were not for Hobbits.  

But Bilbo didn’t care.  He and Thorin had been _denied_ a life together in Middle-earth.  The part about ruling Erebor wasn’t that important to Bilbo.  Yavanna’s Mercy, he had no hankering to be some sort of Royal Uppityness or Whatever.  But he’d hoped that perhaps one day, he and Thorin would have a chance to grow old together, to live in Bag End, to have a life together filled with love and laughter and nephews’ mischief. 

All those hopes died on the same day Thorin took his last breath. 

So now, so close to Valinor and the Valar, Bilbo had his Plan.  And it would have _worked_ too and even dear, sweet Frodo was willing to help his Uncle Bilbo out, curious as the lad was about the Dwarf he might have called uncle as well, if Fate had been kinder. 

Alas, Bilbo did not count upon the mischief by a Certain Set of Giggling Valar Clouds - Pink, Green, Blue and Purple.  We must note that it was the _Pink_ Valar Cloud who had wanted to allow Bilbo his Burglary but the _Green_ Valar Cloud had a better idea, abetted by the Fuzzy _Purple_ Cloud.  The _Blue_ Valar Cloud consented if the love shared by Certain Red-haired Dwarf and a Wood-Elf Prince would _not_ be affected by this new course of events.  

A pact was made.  Agreements were set. 

And so it was that Bilbo Baggins woke up, in his own bed, in Bag End, exactly three months before Gandalf the Grey would darken his door to invite him to an adventure with thirteen Dwarves.

The very first thing that Bilbo did upon waking up and realizing what was going on was _scream_. 

The screaming conveniently prevented him from hearing the Giggling Valar Clouds.  Still.  A second chance.  A new life. 

A way from preventing his beloved King and two of their dear boys from ending up being spitted on orc arrows and swords.  A way from preventing the _youngest_ of their three darling boys from being near-devoured in body and soul by that thrice-cursed Ring. 

Bilbo’s Tookishness firmly beat down on his Baggins Sensibilities, all of which were for curling up in a corner and crying his eyes out.  Somehow he’d been blessed by the Valar themselves about this - never mind the _giggling_ \- and he was going to take this second chance and use it for all he was worth. 

So the very first thing Bilbo did was run off into the Wild, intent on getting a pair of Elven-swords and an Elvish letter opener.  This time around, Bilbo didn’t end up becoming the receptacle of Troll bogeys. 

When Bilbo returned, a bit scratched up and dirty, but nonetheless whole and hale - and once more, the whispers of _Mad Bilbo Baggins_ began to start up again, which he conveniently ignored - he made sure to stock his pantry, read up on his recipe-books and calmly waited for the arrival of a certain gray-robed Wizard. 

A full week before Gandalf was due to arrive in the Shire, there was a _knock_ on Bilbo’s door. 

Now, most of Bilbo’s nosy relatives, _especially_ Lobelia, had the sense to ring the doorbell.  Also, the heaviness of that particular knock reminded Bilbo distinctly of a thick Dwarven fist and however hard he listened for it, he did not hear the shrill, unpleasant voice of his least favorite cousin following said knock. 

Heart fluttering madly and wondering what fresh new Valar-wrought mischief was this, Bilbo opened the door. 

And standing in his doorway, as beautiful and as majestic as he remembered him was Thorin Oakenshield.  Thorin offered him one of those knee-weakening, achingly shy smiles and in his arms….

Well, there was Frodo as the very wee-est of fauntlings, big blue eyes so much like Thorin’s sparkling with mischief and unnervingly far more _knowing_ than any little child had any right to be. 

"Bilbo-papa!" Little Frodo crowed. 

Right.  There was only one sane, sensible thing that a Hobbit of Baggins and Took descent could do. 

"Nope." 

Bilbo fainted. 

*** _tbc_ ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** Fine, you guys got me.  I am now putting all the related prompt short fics into one story because I am a sucker for shenanigans - especially time-travelling shenanigans that result in alternate universes where everyone lives!
> 
> Please note the Presence of the Giggling Valar Clouds [bead-bead](http://tmblr.co/mP6GoJpk3he--INLY2ReKRQ), [determamfidd](http://tmblr.co/mZQM7wBfjO7ikuzTvN4kB6A), Mr. Bead and uh….. we went for Fuzzy Purple because dets wanted to be blue.  This is the only logical explanation I have for the Unexpected Alternate Universe prompt.  Giggling Valar Clouds FTW! 


	3. i listen for returning feet and voices at the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo wakes up. Written for March 2014 Bagginshield Week Day 6. Writing Prompt: Family.

   
[ ](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/image/80617855252)

 

 

**Family - Bagginshield Week Day 6**

**_  
_**

_Warm_ was the first thing that registered in Bilbo’s mind as he slowly, muzzily made his way back to consciousness. 

There was a certain scent surrounding him that made him want to bury his nose in it and just _snuggle_ , because it was a familiar mix of sun-warm stone, spice and the faintest hint of citrus.  It was everything that Bilbo considered _home_ and he’d missed that scent for nearly eighty years. 

And then he smiled, because Thorin almost always took exception to the whole idea that he smelled citrus-y because, of course, Mahal forbid that he smelled anything remotely Elf-like. 

"I _don’t_ ,” growled the familiar, deep voice in his ear and Bilbo’s eyes shot open.

_Thorin._   

Thorin, who was holding Bilbo in his arms, having settled him on his lap and showing no signs of letting him go anytime soon.  Thorin who looked very much as Bilbo had remembered him, the difference being that he was whole and healthy and very much alive. 

"Don’t upset the pregnant Hobbit, Uncle Thorin," Kili advised.  "We really, _really_ like Frodo here and we’d love to have more dwobbit cousins!”

"He doesn’t look pregnant, Kili," Fili answered.  "And for the nth time, we don’t even know if _male_ Hobbits can get pregnant!”

Little Frodo, who had currently turned the eldest Durin prince into his faithful steed, happily tugged on golden braids (which Fili stoically bore without a wince) and crowed, “Bilbo-papa!”

"First of all," Bilbo began, because it was either laugh at the sight of _all his dear boys_ together or curl up in a little ball to cry even more.  _"I am currently not pregnant._   And while most male Hobbits do not have the ability to bear babies, some of us have that particular Gift, due to having Fairy ancestors in our family trees.  It’s a Fallohide thing.

"Secondly," And here, Bilbo began with the finger-wagging.  "That little scraplet on your shoulders calling me _Papa_ is, in fact, my first and second cousin, once removed either way but we just say _nephew_ because you Folk don’t much care about Hobbit Family Trees…”

And at that, Frodo gave a big sniffle and it was _Thorin_ , Mahal help them all, who frowned in concern.  “Bilbo…”

"Oh no you don’t, Frodo Baggins - I know That Look, I am _immune to That Look_ \- you have used it far too many times on me to get more mushrooms!” 

Somehow Frodo managed to make those big blue eyes of his look even more pitiful and then, Thorin, blast and confusticate that Dwarf, gave poor Bilbo _his_ version of the Adorable Love Me Pitiful Big Blue-Eyed Look and said:

"He calls _me_ Da, Bilbo.”

"Thowin-adad!" 

"We’ve gotten him to call Thorin _Adad_ , though,” Kili supplied helpfully.  “You two make _adorable_ Dwobbit babies together!”

"Mum was all set to kill Uncle Thorin for running off and getting someone pregnant without us knowing and without _marrying_ him properly.  So actually, new Uncle Bilbo, we’re here to make sure Uncle Thorin makes an honest Hobbit out of you,” Fili added.  

"We’ve got proper Courting Presents and everything!" Kili beamed. 

"I mean to do things properly this time around," Thorin explained, big Dwarrow hands holding Bilbo as carefully and as reverently as if he were something rare and precious and for once, _that_ particular word didn’t sound like poison in Bilbo’s mind and his heart.  “If you are willing and amenable to giving a fool of a Dwarf a second chance.”

It was easy to pull Thorin close and gently lean their foreheads together.  Kisses would be better but Bilbo was terribly mindful of the presence of their children.  “I’m a fool of a Hobbit who’s very grateful for second chances.  So I’ll take them where I can find them.  And we’ll be fools together.  Yes?”

Thorin smiled as he leaned in for a kiss, which was all the answer Bilbo needed.  It was just a pity that they had to keep it slightly more chaste than they’d like, because Bilbo was already on his Dwarf’s lap and there were all sorts of things that could be done to render said Dwarf’s ears a fiery red and really, Thorin’s hands would feel ever so much better going _lower_ but….

"What about the Quest? And mercy me, what about Gandalf?"

"I’ve sent a message for that Daft Old Coot to Bree.  My cousins and the rest of our Company will be heading here to meet us - well, you, specifically.  And the Quest…" Thorin hesitated. "It has to be done, beloved but — "

"A Discussion of How to Prevent Several Very Bad, No Good Terrible Things needs to be had but that’s a talk for later, once I’ve seen to feeding the lot of you."  Bilbo managed to extract himself from Thorin’s lap, which was terribly difficult considering Thorin was quite reluctant to let him go and was again, Yavanna have mercy, giving him his own Patented Pitiful Look.  Kili and Frodo apparently came by this honestly. 

Still, Bilbo managed and he scurried off to the kitchen, conscious that his Dwarf would be right on his heels.  His family was here.  And with the rest of the Dwarves coming, it would be all complete very soon.  But in the meantime, Bilbo was a proper Hobbit in this one particular instance and no proper Hobbit would _dream_ of letting their family go hungry. 

When Dwarf and Hobbit uncles left the sitting room, Dwarf and Hobbit nephews remained behind for just a few moments more. 

"Do you suppose we ought to tell them that they’re not the only ones who came back for a second chance?" Kili asked. 

"Tea first!" Frodo declared, pulling on Fili’s braids and pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

"What our little dwobbit cousin says.  Tea first.  It’ll keep.  And if both Thorin and Bilbo faint, _you’re_ catching Uncle Thorin.” 

"That’s not fair — !"  

_\- tbc -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** I am so sorry I am late with my Bagginshield fics.  I went into my weekend hibernation and didn’t emerge unless it was to eat and feed my kitten.  But anyway…. ta-dah! :D 
> 
> Also, look, a Plot Twist!  *** evil laughter ***


	4. blunt the knives and bend the forks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balin muses upon this most unusual Royal Court. Written for Bagginshield Week March 2014 Day 7. Writing Prompt: A Royal Court.

  
[ ](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/image/80760021415)

**A Royal Court - Bagginshield Week Day 7**

_**  
**_

Now here was a most unusual royal court. 

Balin, son of Fundin, was used to the formalities of the Royal Court of the Line of Durin. He still remembered some of the oldest points of etiquette and how one was meant to bow and how something as simple as a wrongly buckled dagger could be constituted as an insult to King and Court. Granted, they had their years of wandering and the fact that once free of gold-sickness, old King Thror absolutely _hated_ royal fripperies and formalities, something that Thorin shared. So there wasn’t much cause for such things anymore. 

But Balin still remembered, if only because it lent him a certain understanding when the members of Thror’s Old Council were occasionally scandalized at the actions of their current King. Of course, said old flatulent members would be scandalized at what was currently taking place right now, here in this rather cosy Hobbit hole in the Shire but Balin didn’t give a single sodding brass button for their opinions.

In fact, he was rather pleased at this development.

To begin with, Balin was currently cuddling their newest Dwobbit prince, who was being very true to his Dwarrow half and was absolutely _fascinated_ with his beard.

All right, so maybe wee little Frodo wasn’t actually Thorin’s son with his previously unknown and unmentioned Hobbit consort. _Nephew_ was the easiest way to think about it but Frodo’s coloring and the fact that he happily called Thorin and Bilbo _Adad_ and _Papa_ (with plenty of snickering from Fili and Kili) pretty much cemented the little one’s status as the Royal Couple’s son. And Balin _liked_ the word “Dwobbit” too. 

Balin was also prepared to swear up and down that except for the distinctively fuzzy feet, Frodo was the spitting likeness of a tiny Durin Crown Prince back in the day and Dwalin himself gave over to some truly creative swearing in Khuzdul when confronted with _Thorin and Frodo_ directing identical Innocent Looks in his direction. 

(Said Innocent Looks were warranted when Dwalin discovered all the cookies were gone. It didn’t help that there were tell-tale crumbs on Frodo’s cheeks and in Thorin’s beard.)

Bilbo was heard to mutter something along the lines of “What in Yavanna’s name did I do to deserve this?” while Dwalin swore without repeating himself once for the next fifteen minutes.

Young Gimli was avidly listening to every word - the lad _really_ shouldn’t be here but he’d run off after his own _Adad_ in true reckless Durin fashion and poor Gloin was already dreading how he’d ever explain this to his beloved wife. Gloin had also taken exception to Dwalin swearing in front of the “wee babbys” and so a brawl was in the making. But Bilbo stepped in with a true Consort’s authority, sorted them both out right quickly and set them to getting the tables ready and the dishes set. 

Dori was placed in charge of them, because according to Bilbo, the Dwarf was the only one who appreciated the value of Bilbo’s West Farthing china and would ensure that no breakages would occur. 

Thorin was _actually_ in the kitchen helping out with the _cooking_.

It is a little-known fact that Thorin Oakenshield actually cooks and cooks well and that it is a skill he acquired years before the fall of Erebor. His grandmother, Queen Beryl, had been one of the finest cooks who’d ever lived and she was quite determined to pass on her skills to her grandchildren. Mahal forbid that _any_ of her darlings were to take after their grandfather Thror, who could not be trusted to boil water. 

So Thorin actually knew how to cook and he knew all his grandmother’s best recipes by heart and there, on the table, were some dishes that Thorin had not prepared in _years_ , mainly due to lack of supplies and time. And of course, the other reason was due to old griefs and memories. 

Now these dishes were proudly sharing space with some Baggins family meals. There was an appealing blush on Thorin’s cheeks when Bilbo had a taste and promptly delivered several smacking kisses to his husband. 

It wasn’t long until the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, serving as his new Council were gathered around the dinner table, with Thorin and his Hobbit Consort presiding. The food was excellent and even young Ori was persuaded to admit that _green food_ , prepared Hobbit-style, wasn’t so bad at all. The ale was even better. 

Of course, poor young Gimli had to content himself with lemonade and honey but from the look on the Dwarfling’s face, it was actually rather good. 

And in the middle of things, Gandalf the Grey turned up at the door and he was promptly ushered to his seat and given his dinner. At the accusation of being late to the party, the Wizard huffed and claimed that he arrived _precisely_ at the right moment (or at least, he got there in time given that Barliman the Innkeeper at the Prancing Pony in Bree had nearly forgotten to give him Thorin’s message). 

King, Consort, Princes, Council and Wizard - the royal court was complete. There was a Quest to discuss and a Dragon to deal with and Balin did not miss the very strange behaviors of King and Consort, to say nothing of the equally odd things they kept saying. But still, there was good food, there was ale and if Bofur’s behavior was any indication, there was going to be a suitably rowdy and raucous song to round out dinner. 

All in all, this was a merry royal court and it gave Balin great hope that this Quest, as foolhardy as it seemed to him, would have a much better ending. 

Frodo snuffled sleepily into Balin’s shoulder and the white-haired Dwarf smiled. Yes, Mahal willing, things would work out quite well indeed.

Now if Balin could just stop hearing those strange _giggles_ and the oddly colored _clouds_ that were floating just out of the corner of his eyes…

_\- tbc -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** Again, sorry for the late submission. But hey, here’s the next chapter of the Time Travel Fic of Doom! And yep - there’s little Gimli! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAAHAHA!
> 
> **Note the Second:** I'm going to try to answer a few questions but generally speaking, I prefer to let the story do the explaining and if I'm still getting questions after that ** sweatdrops ** I'll do better at Making Things Clear. 
> 
> a. Yes, Bilbo and Thorin came back in time. Obviously, they both came back after their respective lifespans had ended - Thorin at the BoFA and Bilbo after he passed his 130th birthday. In Tolkien canon, going to Valinor as a mortal doesn't guarantee an extended life span or even getting younger or whatnot - all of these are fanon conventions (which I love, btw). So here's a bit of Tolkien Nerdishness - Frodo was granted that grace because of the pain he suffered through while being the Ringbearer and he went so that he could have a chance to heal. Bilbo was granted that grace because he was the Ring-finder. The likeliest scenario that fits canon is that Bilbo probably at least recovered from the soul-wounds he DID have from bearing the Ring, recovered his mind (because he was already suffering from old-age induced dementia) and passed on peacefully. Who knows - maybe Bilbo stayed in Valinor for as long Frodo needed to recover? He does love his nephew so I like to imagine that's how it went. For the purposes of this story, of course, I went with fanon conventions and left canon at the door. LOL. 
> 
> b. Fili and Kili also went back in time. Um. How they're going to break this to their darling uncles is the subject for the succeeding chapters. 
> 
> c. Frodo went back in time too. But he's currently a kid. He's approximately the equivalent of a three year old toddler PHYSICALLY but as far as his mind is concerned, well, you guys can tell he's not quite your average three year old. 
> 
> d. Gimli is going on this Quest BECAUSE REASONS. I am literally writing a lot of this by the seat of my pants so please bear with me. I'll need to keep some cards to myself because I'd like to see how they'll play out plot wise and not write myself into a corner. :) 
> 
> **Note the Third:** Yep, Thorin can cook. That's my headcanon. ** cackles gleefully **

**Author's Note:**

>  **Note:** It’s kind of hilarious how these prompts are bleeding into the next one?  Man, these Plot Bunnies are persistent! :P 
> 
> **Note the Second:** So this has become my Official Take on the Time Travel Trope a.k.a "Thorin and/or Bilbo wake up in the past and decide it's an Awesome Idea to Try and Fix Things." Put your tongue firmly in cheek, leave canon at the door and here we go!


End file.
